Praise his performance?

"Paul, you've made me feel great tonight. With that cock, too." you respond, holding him by the shoulders and looking him straight into the eyes. "My tock is only so huge because of a freak accident, and your cock is probably bigger than average."

You think back about your own little shrivel-dick. Back as a guy, you were a grower, not a shower. You can't measure those differences anymore, but Paul's member is probably still bigger than your old one, when fully erect.

"But Trisha was going off like a bomb, and I..." Paul is still self-castigating. You interrupt him by planting your lips on his again, but just for a dry kiss. His eyes open wide as if he expects to have to suck you off again, but you just hold him tight on the shoulders with your feminine hands and look him straight in the eyes. Wow... how come you hadn't noticed before that his irises have the same brilliant white color as his hair and all his possessions! They are remarkable, outshining the actual white of his eyes by far. They are so cool.

"You're beautiful." you breathe, checking out those eyes. But Paul trembles and looks back down to his limp dick. "I've only been with my girlfriend before and she doesn't seem that satisfied, you know..."

"Shut up, I said you were great. You came in me three times, and this was our first time together." And then you giggle. "The only larger-than-you cocks in my little cunt that I had before, um, was a blue dildo." you say as you realize this very truth. You're not telling Paul the full truth, that he's the first real cock you ever had, but it still lifts him up a little bit. The two of you embrace once again and whisper a sweet thankyou to each other. And then he flees the shower and bathroom, leaving you behind.

You wish that you had one of those great showerheads that you can dismount from the wall, to fully reach your inner folds. So all you can do, is washing off with your fingers in your hole, but it's much less erotic when you're just trying to get clean.

And then you hear a voice - a voice you heard only once before. Last evening. The voice that gave you your power.

"In 24 hours, you claimed 32 wishes, Emcey. Not always wise, you still remained humble and you chose a theme."

Oh. Oh sheeeeet. Does that mean that wishing time is over after a day? And... what's this with a theme?

The voice apparently picks up on your nerves.

"You did good, Emcey. This day was amusing... enough to grant you more wishes. Once per day, your first wish will again come true. Until tomorrow, Emcey."

And then, the voice is quiet again. And as much as you plead with the damp air in the shower, you don't hear it anymore. And what is worse, when you wish for another sandwich... this time nothing happens.